


Let's Hurt (Love) Tonight

by ThisIsMyTherapy



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Based on a song, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rimming, Top Derek Hale/Bottom Stiles Stilinski, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 16:53:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14109828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisIsMyTherapy/pseuds/ThisIsMyTherapy
Summary: This is my interpretation of Let's Hurt Tonight by OneRepublic.After a fight against Gremlins, Stiles takes care of Derek and they allow themselves to give into their feelings for each other.  Instead of their default of arguing, they show each other what they can't say.





	Let's Hurt (Love) Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> So I pretty much can't listen to a song and not think of a way it relates to Sterek, so this was the case with Let's Hurt Tonight by OneRepublic. I really love this song and for some reason I just couldn't get this out of my head so thought I would write it down. It's short and I hope you enjoy! <3

 

Stiles swung his bat, connecting perfectly with the gremlin flying toward him, causing the little asshole to hit the tree with a sickening crack and slump to the ground.  Immediately, he turned to see where the rest of the pack were. To his right, Malia had a gremlin by the throat, Liam was staring at the mass of small bodies surrounding him, unmoving.  Scott was a little deeper to the left, clawing from side to side, connecting every time. Just ahead of him, Kira was pulling Derek up into a sitting position to assess his injuries. Typically, this is where Stiles would run to Derek, scream at him for being so fucking stupid and going to his Plan B (Derek sacrificing himself to save everyone) without even waiting to see if Plan A had worked.  This was the default Stiles had fallen into for over a year, because of course, Derek always decided that throwing himself into the front of all the evil things to protect the pack was what had to happen. They fought about it every time there was a pack meeting, and yet, nothing changed.

 

Derek coming back to Beacon Hills before everyone graduated was a bit surprising, but welcome.  He announced his intentions to stay and that spurred a major decision-making discussion for the graduating seniors.  Malia never had any intentions of leaving. She wasn’t ready to explore the world when she was still finding her footing in Beacon Hills.  Lydia went to MIT, saying she couldn’t stay, and no one blamed her. Stiles and Scott talked around each other. Scott, being the Alpha, was more conflicted.  Stiles was completely Ok with turning his back on the town which had wreaked havoc on their lives for years, but Scott felt a pull to stay. Kira was back to stay and eventually, after talking to his dad, Stiles said he’d stay.  All attending the University in Beacon County. It’s been two years, and so far, he hasn’t regretted the decision.

 

Naturally, the pack got a bit of a reprieve from crazies coming into Beacon HIlls, but eventually, they started getting visitors.  Most of the time, they were small and easily dealt with. Derek and Stiles were always paired together because, well. Because. Malia was more grounded with Kira, Scott was still helping Liam with control and overall werewolfness, and Corey and Mason were CoreyandMason, so, that left Derek and Stiles.  It was awkward at first, but Derek had softened around the edges and Stiles realized that all the mistrust he had for Derek wasn’t there anymore. One thing that hadn’t changed was their ability to argue about _everything._  It was their default, especially as Stiles started feeling more than just friendly pack feelings for Derek.  It was easier to yell and fight then to admit _hey, I think I’m kinda falling in love with you._

 

Stiles moved slowly toward Kira and Derek, walking around the gremlin littered ground.  The night was silent now, aside from the heavy breathing from everyone and the grunts of pain coming from Derek.  Scott looked up at Stiles from where he was crouched by Derek and squinted his eyes. Stiles wasn’t yelling. He wasn’t man-handling Derek, demanding him to tell him what the fuck he thought he was doing, or running commentary about how stupid he was.  Clearly, something must be wrong. Scott leaped up and started searching for something he wouldn’t find on Stiles.

 

“Stiles, you Ok?” He asked while moving his hands franticly over his body.

“I’m fine,” Stiles told him, softly pushing his hands away.  Scott was clearly confused and it only grew when Stiles leaned down to help Derek to his feet.  Scott scrambled to help him and exchanged worried looks with Kira as Malia and Liam watched on with raised eyebrows.  They all walked to Stiles’ Jeep in silence, Kira getting in the back to help guide Derek gently down in the backseat. Without saying a word, Stiles walked to the drivers seat and started the Jeep, Scott slamming the passenger door shut.  The ride was quiet instead of filled with angry yelling that welcomed no comments from anyone else but Stiles. Stiles could feel Scott’s, Kira’s and even Derek’s eyes on him. Waiting for the explosion that was soon to come, but never did.  

 

Tonight felt different.  Stiles didn’t want to be angry anymore.  He didn’t want his default to always be yelling and ranting.  Tonight, he was tired of hurting and pushing aside everything he felt.  He could guess it had something to do with the fight he and Derek had earlier, but it didn’t matter.  He would do what he always did, make sure Derek was taken care of after a battle.

 

Stiles drove on autopilot to Derek’s loft.  The route was so familiar he could drive it blindfolded.  After parking the car, he helped Scott get Derek out of the backseat and gently carried him to the elevator, each of the younger man’s shoulder under each of Derek’s armpit.  Stiles still hadn’t said anything. Kira opened the loft door so they could move quickly to lower Derek onto the couch. Derek tried to catch Stiles’ eyes, but Stiles avoided looking at him and moved quietly to the kitchen.  

 

Derek looked at Scott and asked, “did we break him?” with his eyebrows, and Scott communicated “I have no fucking clue dude!” with a frantic gesture, eyebrows meeting his hairline and eyes widening.  Kira placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. Stiles could be heard getting down pans and filling them with hot water, taking them out to the couch and going back for another. They all watched him, but didn’t say anything until Stiles was going to head to the bathroom for the first aid kit.

 

“We could do this Stiles.  Why don’t you go get some rest?” Kira told him before he could move any further out of the room.  Stiles looked up at her and smiled softly, “It’s Ok. I’ve got it. You two should go help with clean up.”

 

“Are you sure you’re Ok?” Scott asked again.

 

“I promise.  You guys can go.  I’ll text with an update once he’s cleaned up.”  Scott searched his best friend’s face and found nothing to be concerned about.  There was no blip in this heartbeat to indicate any lie, just a calm, steady rhythm.  

 

“OK.  We’ll send an update too once everything is cleaned up,” Kira said with a smile.  Scott gave Stiles a hug and waved toward Derek, nodding at the whispered, “thank you”.  Stiles closed the loft door behind his friends and leaned forward to rest his forehead on the door in front of him.  He took in several steadying breaths as his neck tingles from the wolf eyes boring into his back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

_6 hours earlier_

 

Derek looked up from his book as he heard the familiar rumble of Stiles’ Jeep coming down the road.  As it approached, he could smell Scott and Kira with him. Derek sighed, placed his bookmark on his current page and set the book on the coffee table.  He had just enough time to cross his arms against his chest and glare at the loft door as it was swung open.

 

“You could try knocking,” Derek told Stiles in lue of a greeting.  Stiles rolled his eyes, “I love that you act like I don’t have my own key,” he scoffed back as Scott and Kira trailed behind him.  Derek _did_ know that Stiles had somehow made a key to his loft, but he could still demand some privacy.  Before Derek could tell that to Stiles, the slender young man was slamming a book down on the long table by the window.

 

“Gremlins!” he shouted.  “Fucking gremlins are invading the preserve.  Pack meeting to discuss.” Derek heard Scott sigh from behind him, a sound that is usually only reserved for his best friend.  “You know. There are these cool devices called phones. You could have called,” Derek retorted.

 

Stiles scoffed, “oh please.  Don’t pretend like you weren’t just lounging on the couch reading a book.  If you didn’t want us barging in on you, you shouldn’t have given me a key.”  Stiles hadn’t even looked up from the book he was looking through. Derek’s eyebrows raised before growling, “I didn’t give you a key --,”

 

“Aha! Found it,” Stiles cried out, completely ignoring Derek.  It was Derek’s turn to sigh and rub at his temples. He should be used to this by now.  He made the decision to stay, to enter into the McCall pack and try to make a home again.  And with that decision, came Stiles and all his antics, flailing, and lack of filter. Being always paired together and Stiles always seeming to seek him out first instead of Scott, should have Derek immune to all this, but it hasn’t.  This scene has played out time and time again. Big bad comes into Beacon Hills, pack makes a plan, Stiles hates Derek’s plan, proceeds to yell and let him know exactly how much he hates the plan, Derek yells back, Scott makes them go to their respective corners, shit goes wrong, Stiles man-handles Derek back to health.  It’s what they do and if Derek was really honest with himself, he would admit that deep down he craves it, all of it.

 

Derek may have gotten out of Beacon Hills and found a semblance of peace, but he still had a lot of walls built up around his heart.  It’s not his fault that over the past year or so Stiles has slowly chipped away at it without either of them realizing it. Derek could handle the hostility.  Could handle the fighting and the angry touching as he cleaned and bandaged his wounds from whatever fight they were lucky to come back from. He even let himself enjoy the feel of Stiles’ long, deft fingers as they worked over his chest, arms, and sides.  But he wasn’t stupid, and neither was the pack. He knew, as they did, that there was _something_ underneath all the screaming and growls.  But no one said anything or called them out on it, so Derek wouldn’t either.  

 

Everyone moved to the table to see what Stiles had found and were joined by Malia and Liam shortly after.  Corey and Mason were spending the weekend in San Francisco for their anniversary.

 

“OK,” Stiles began, “one thing the movie did get right is that they hate light.  That’s why we couldn’t find anything when we went out there the other day. I’m guessing by the body we found that they have already transformed into their more aggressive stages of gremlinhood so we should proceed with caution.”

 

“Does light kill them or do they just not like it?”  Kira asked.

 

“It deters them for sure, but it’s not quite clear.  My guess is that if it’s hot enough light they could burst into flames,” Stiles answered.

 

“So how do we kill them?”  Malia asked, ready for a fight.

 

“Good old fashion violence should do it.  Cut off their heads, stab them, you know, the usual,” Stiles answered shrugging his shoulders.

 

“So, we should get some high voltage lights to distract them and just go to town on them yes?” Derek asked raising his eyebrows.  There was a collective intake of breath, bracing themselves for Stiles to retort.

 

“Right.  Let’s go in with lights that _could also blind the werewolves,_ brillant Derek,” Stiles quipped sarcastically.

 

Derek growled, “so what should we do _Stiles?”_ Derek spat back.

 

Stiles took two steps forward so he could poke him in the chest, “wait until morning and use that to our advantage.  There aren’t many places they could be sleeping during the day and with your super sniffers,” Stiles poked Derek in the nose for emphasis, “we could find them in no time.  They would be trapped or risk coming out into the light.”

 

“And in the meantime, they could kill something else.  Possibly _Someone,”_  Derek retorted back, poking Stiles in the chest this time.  It was most definitely not an excuse to touch him.

 

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take if it means our pack come back in one piece!” Stiles yelled, pushing Derek this time.

 

Derek growled, flashing blue eyes, “we can heal Stiles.”  

 

“There are some things you can’t come back from Derek!” Stiles screamed back, face turning red.

 

“Better me than you!”  Derek roared.

 

Stiles blinked, opening his mouth to make another rebuttal, but Scott broke through, “corners,” was all he had to say using his Alpha voice.  As if they were pulled back forcefully, they both jerked to their respective corners which was actually different parts of the loft. Derek retreated to the space by the spiral staircase, pacing.  While Stiles went into the kitchen to brace himself on the counter.

 

Stiles clung to the counter, taking in deep breaths and then letting them out slowly.  This wasn’t their first argument. It wasn’t even their most aggressive, but it was different.  It wasn’t just hearing the four words from Derek, “better you than me.” It was hearing them in combination with the crack that slipped when Derek said “you” paired with the pained look in his bright, blue eyes.  

 

As much as Stiles yelled at Derek for always throwing himself in front of the danger to protect the pack, Derek was equally as vocal about Stiles doing the same.  Derek always seemed to win out with everyone else because of his super healing powers. But Stiles always goes back to Boyd and Erica, to that night in Mexico. Derek was lucky that he transformed into his wolf instead of dying.  He wouldn’t be so lucky a second time and that thought was enough to cripple Stiles.

 

Stiles wasn’t stupid.  Oblivious, naive at times, but never stupid.  He knew that he and Derek were dancing around feelings that were deeper than either of them were capable of acknowledging, but Derek stepped over the carefully drawn line tonight and Stiles didn’t know what to do with that.  He all but admitted that he was Ok being the one to sacrifice his life if it meant Stiles lived. Whether it was because Scott and Malia would be affected or because Derek couldn’t stand the thought of a life without Stiles, he didn’t know.  

 

In the end, Derek’s plan won out.  Malia and Liam were itching for a fight and Scott was swayed by the potential for the loss of a human life.  At least Kira always seemed to have Stiles’ back.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Stiles took one more deep inhale and let it out slowly before lifting his head and locking the loft door.  He walked into the bathroom to grab the first aid kit. It was mostly for when he got banged up, but there was some supernatural healing ointments.  He grabbed a few wash cloths and made his way back to the couch to attend to Derek.

 

Derek was now sitting up on the couch and watched as Stiles walked toward him with his head bowed.  His heartbeat was steady and there was not clear sign of injury, but a quiet Stiles was rare and Derek didn’t know how to handle it.  Hazel eyes followed as Stiles knelt between Derek’s spread legs. Discarding the first aid kit and towels, Stiles reached for the hem of Derek’s shirt and locked eyes with the werewolf asking permission.  Derek barley moved his head to indicate consent, leaning forward and lifting his arms to assist Stiles in removing his shirt.

 

Shirt discarded somewhere beside the couch, Stiles ghosted his fingers over Derek’s bloodied chest and stomach assessing the damage.  The wounds and gashes were almost completely healed underneath all the blood. Really, there was no reason for Stiles to be cleaning Derek like this.  It would probably be easier for him to just hop in the shower and go to sleep. He would be healed completely by the time the sun came up. But this was something that Stiles allowed himself.  If Derek was going to insist on throwing himself into danger all the time, Stiles could make sure that he was Ok and take care of him. Usually, this happened while Stiles pushed him around, yelled at him, and “accidently” used the wrong ointment or pressed just a little too hard, but not tonight.  Tonight, he didn’t want Derek to hurt. He needed him to feel cared for. Needed him to understand that those four words he spoke earlier tonight could have just as easily came from Stiles’ mouth.

 

Dipping a washcloth in the now warm water, Stiles focused on his task of wiping Derek’s stomach and chest clean.  He didn’t look up, but could feel Derek watching his fingers move across his chest, down his sides, and back to his stomach.  Stiles was gentle with his strokes, alternating between cleaning the blood off with the cloth and dipping it back in the now bloodied water.  Once Derek’s front was cleaned Stiles gestured for Derek to move sideways on the couch so he could reach his back. This was much the same, just some almost-healed gashes and cuts.  

 

Derek was quiet, allowing himself to close his eyes and concentrate on the feel of Stiles’ fingers on his back.  He was being so goddamn gentle and Derek didn’t know if he could handle it much longer. This is the first time since before the fire that someone has taken care of him like this.  Has taken the time to be gentle with him and for Stiles to be doing it now was more than he could have ever hoped for. Derek felt Stiles shift and push his shoulder back so he was sitting in his original position.  Kneeling in between his legs again, Stiles moved ever so slowly to reach for Derek’s belt. Stiles stopped his movement just before making contact with the belt buckle looking up to Derek for permission. Derek answered by pushing his hips up to allow Stiles to pull his pants down.  Stiles told himself that the torn and bloodied legs of Derek’s pants warranted a look to make sure he wasn’t cut too badly, but really, Stiles didn’t want to stop taking care of Derek and he wasn’t ready to actually _say_ anything.  

 

Derek’s legs were covered in scratches and cuts, but they were almost completely healed.  Stiles cleaned them the best he could and looked up to Derek watching him. Derek’s breathing had become heavier the more Stiles touched him, but he sat as still as a statue.  Derek’s face was covered in dirt and dried blood. Stiles had to make a decision. Does he keep pushing and clean his face for him or just hand him a new cloth and have Derek do it himself?

Stiles searched Derek’s eyes and only found an openness he’s never seen before.  Derek didn’t want him to stop just as much as Stiles didn’t want to stop. Breaking eye contact, Stiles took in a shaky breath and let it out slowly while he picked up and dipped a new washcloth.  Stiles looked back at Derek and slowly moved to straddle Derek’s lap, giving him plenty of time for Derek to make it clear that wasn’t what he wanted. Stiles slid into place on Derek’s lap and immediately Derek placed his hands to rest on his hips.  

 

Reaching out a hand, Stiles cupped the right side of Derek’s face.  Instantly, Derek closed his eyes and pushed into the contact. Stiles let his lips curve up into a soft smile and used his other hand to begin cleaning Derek’s face.  Stiles nudged Derek’s face to get him to move his head to the side to get the right side causing him to finally open his eyes. They stared at each other and said everything they needed to say in the exchange.  They could have this. They could allow themselves to open up to each other in the only way they really wanted.

 

Derek took the washcloth out of Stiles’ hands and swung it forward to drop on the ground.  He cupped Stiles’ face in his strong hands and leaned forward. Stiles met him halfway, just ghosting his lips on Derek’s.  It was barely a touch, but it was a perfect. Stiles gripped the back of Derek’s neck and pushed him harder against his lips.  A noise escaped Derek’s mouth allowing access. Tongues touched gently at first, then began to push and explore. It was a slow expedition of discovery.  In all the times they fantasized about how this would happen, this was never the scene.

 

Stiles thought it would be during a heated argument, Derek pushing him into the wall and Stiles slamming their mouths together in retaliation.  In a moment of heat that either of them could explain away if they wanted. Not like this, so deliberate and soft. But it was better Stiles thought.  

 

Derek moved his hands from Stiles’ hips to cup underneath his thighs, picking him up as he stood to carry him to the bed.  He lowered him down gently, breaking the kiss to lift Stiles’ shirt. Derek placed a kiss just under Stiles’ ear and worked his way down his neck, licking, nipping, and sucking until he reached the dark trail that lead to his growing cock.  Derek looked up under long lashes, asking permission to continue. Stiles shook his head in a jerky motion, making Derek smirk. Derek removed both Stiles’ jeans and boxers in one swift movement causing his erection to slap against his stomach.  Derek let out a growl and immediately ducked down, using the flat of his tongue to lick from the base of his cock to the head, engulfing the tip with his hot mouth.

 

“Oh god,” Stiles whimpered, hips jerking up causing his cock to reach further down Derek’s mouth.  Derek hummed his approval and began working Stiles’ cock slowly. The loft was filled with moans and encouragements slipping past both their lips.  Derek abandoned Stiles’ throbbing cock to grab the lube in this bedside table, but before he did anything else, Derek covered Stiles’ body and kissed him.  Pulling back he met chocolate eyes, “let me take care of you tonight?” Derek asked, vulnerability and something close to love in his eyes. Stiles cupped his face and pulled him into a soft kiss before smiling and saying, “yes,” against his lips.  Derek answered with his own kiss, prying open Stiles’ mouth more when he let out a moan. He kissed his way down his body, pushing his knees up and spreading his legs wide to gain access to his beautiful pink hole. Derek inhaled deeply, taking in the spicy and sweet scent of arousal.  Derek took both hands, spreading Stiles’ cheeks so he could lick against his tight, pink pucker.

 

“Holy fuck,” Stiles whimpered, threading his fingers in Derek’s hair and pushing him down into his ass further.  Derek likced and sucked, and then slowly pushed the tip of his tongue inside Stiles. He has never tasted anything better and couldn’t get enough.  Derek fucked Stiles’ hole with his tongue, causing the most delicious sounds to escape. Derek added some lube on his fingers and slowly worked each digit in with his tongue.  Before long, Stiles was fucking himself on three of Derek’s fingers and begging for Derek to hurry up and fill him with his cock.

 

“Derek, _please,”_ Stiles begged then whimpered when Derek withdrew his fingers to slick up his cock and align himself with his now stretched hole.  Locking eyes with Stiles, Derek pushed in only the tip, causing both men to gasp into a moan. Derek lowered himself so he was propped up on his elbows, each on either side of Stiles’ head.  He leaned down and kissed him while slowly pushing all the way inside Stiles, only stopping when his balls hit skin.

 

Derek kissed Stiles until his body adjusted to the intrusion then finally pulling back slowly and pushing in just as slow.  He kept up this frustratingly slow pace and alternating between deep thrusts and shallow thrusts that seem to hit Stiles’ prostate every time.  

 

Stiles moved his hands to cup Derek’s ass in an attempt to move faster, harder.  “Come on Derek, I won’t break,” Stiles pleaded.

 

Derek shushed him, “I’ve got you.  Let me take care of you,” Derek grabbed Stiles’ hands from his ass and raised them above their heads, intertwining their fingers.  Stiles wrapped his legs as far up on Derek’s back as he could go, changing the angle slightly. They watched each other and met each slow stroke.  What Derek meant to say was, “Let me show you what you mean to me. Let me strip away all the hurt and love you.” But what he couldn’t say in words, he hoped was coming across in each deep thrust, in each kiss he placed to Stiles’ temple, eye, tip of his nose, and mouth.  

 

They both came on a whisper of each other’s name, mouths close, breathing the same air.  Derek fell on top of Stiles, Stiles immediately wrapping his arms tightly around Derek’s shoulders.  They laid there, clinging to each other as their breathing evened out and Derek’s soft cock slipped from Stiles’ entrance.  Without a word, Derek flipped them so he was behind Stiles, arms wrapped over his waist, back flush to his front.

 

“Thank you,” Derek whispered before Stiles could drift off to sleep.

 

“For what?” Stiles sleep mumbled back.

 

“For taking care of me,” Derek replied.

 

Stiles couldn’t help the smile from forming when he told him, “always Derek.  Always.”


End file.
